tell me when you hear my heart stop
by Tiffany Blews
Summary: A marriage, a heart broken girl, and a stupid, stupid boy. "It's a last ditch effort for Craig's affections, and Ellie knows it." Ellie/Craig


**title:** tell me when you hear my heart stop (you're the only one who knows)

**fandom:**degrassi

**pairing:**craig/ellie

**summary: **it's a last ditch effort for craig's affections.

* * *

A year.

A year since LA, and Ellie's doing fine.

College is... college, but she's still swimming, writing her papers on time, keeping up with her homework. She has a B average, and she's proud of that. Marco's grades go up and down, but she helps him study in their small two bedroom apartment. They hardly ever fight, now that Paige is gone.

Ellie's home life is normal, for probably the first time in her entire life. Her dad recovered, eventually, and her mom is sober for almost three years now. She talks to them on the phone once a week, visits whenever she's not too busy. She works at a diner down the street from campus when she's not in school. Waitressing isn't perfect, but, hey, it brings in the money and Ellie's not complaining.

She goes on dates, sometimes. Marco drags her to clubs on the weekends, and she gets hit on a lot. She doesn't ignore the boys like she used to, though. If they're sweet and funny and not too bad looking, then she'll take their offer at face value and call them in a couple of days.

A year.

(And Ellie still wants Craig with everything in her. Still dreams of his voice and those times in his basement where they'd work on music and goof off. Still cries when she remembers that he doesn't love her, doesn't want her back. And he never will.)

* * *

Ellie's late for work.

She spilled coffee on her shirt, had to rush to change, and then Marco couldn't find his paper that she helped him work on last night. She runs down the steps, her hair blowing in the cold December wind.

"Shit, shit, shit." She murmurs, and she knows she could just get it later but, well, she doesn't know why she has to grab the mail _right now_, but she does.

A cream colored envelope in her hands, and Ellie forgets all about work today. She locks herself in her room and cries until Marco gets home.

* * *

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of Craig Manning and Evette Andrews._

She doesn't need to read the rest.

* * *

Marco finds the invitation in the trash.

He knocks twice on her door, and when she doesn't open it, he just walks in. He sighs as he looks at her, and Ellie fights the tremble of her lower lip. She's pathetic. She's _so_ pathetic.

"Ellie..."

"Just... Don't, Marco. Don't."

He nods and gets under the covers with her. They watch a Saved By The Bell marathon in silence.

* * *

Life goes on.

Every day is much of the same. Work, school, Marco, sleep. It's all dull, useless, and stupid, and Ellie is...

Craig's getting married.

(She still dreams about him.)

* * *

"Hello," Ellie answers without looking at the caller i.d as she stands to throw away the trash from her lunch. Her break's almost over and there's a line forming at the register.

"Ellie!"

She sits back down.

"Craig," she tries for enthusiasm, but she knows the effort falls flat. If Craig notices, he doesn't act like it.

"How've you been?"

"Great."

He sounds so happy over the line and all she wants to do is seehim, touch him, just fucking be _near_ him.

"Did you get the invitation?"

She closes her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I did."

"Good." There's a pause, "I hope you can come."

Ellie bites her lip, has to force the words out, "Of course, Craig."

She can almost hear him smile, "Good! I can't wait to see you, El!"

_Of course, Craig._

_

* * *

_

"So we're going?"

"We're going."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything, Marco."

* * *

Ellie buys the most expensive and beautiful dress she can find.

Marco fawns over it and declares that she's beautiful in it and now he's going to have to go buy an awesome suit just so he can appear decent at her side. Ellie smiles. She just wants to look good. She just wants to look confident, wants to look proud and happy with her life. She's not some sad almost-girlfriend. She's fine.

(It's a last ditch effort for Craig's affections and Ellie knows it.)

* * *

_day one_

Four hours of anticipation, and they're collecting their luggage off the carousel.

Ellie's boss turned nice and gave her the week for the wedding. Both she and Marco's classes are done for winter break, so they packed up and hopped on a plane. Craig's picking them up, and Ellie silently prays that Evette's not in tow.

She spies her suitcase, grabs it off the conveyer belt. Marco's still waiting; he taps his foot and checks his watch. Ellie shoots a glance towards the revolving doors and there's Craig, in all his glory, a huge smile stretched across his face. She can't fight the twitch of her lips, and he starts toward her, walking too fast to actually be called walking.

Craig grabs her in his arms, twirls her around. Her hair flies around them, a red curtain of privacy, and Craig's eyes are just as light and gorgeous as they always were. She wants to hug him and be all giddy about the fact that he's touching her, but on the flight over she decided that she was going to be strong, happy, non-pathetic Ellie, so she puts her hands on his chest and slides out of his embrace.

Craig's smile doesn't falter, but his eyes linger on hers longer than they should before he turns to hug Marco. They exchange pleasantries and then Craig smiles at them both, takes Ellie's luggage from her.

Their hands brush and Ellie ignores it, but Craig's still looking at her and it's agonizing.

This is agonizing.

* * *

Evette is nice.

She is nice like she was last winter, when Ellie could've sworn she was just going to die because of how pretty Craig's new girlfriend was, and how she could never measure up. Now, Evette's chatting with Marco about her favorite artists and Ellie's looking down at her plate because she doesn't want to be here.

"I'm playing a show tomorrow night." Craig says to her as Marco raves over Andy Warhol.

"Oh?" Ellie asks, turning her eyes up to meet his.

"Yeah, at the House of Blues."

"The House of Blues? Wow, Craig. That's awesome."

He nods, "I figured it would be right up your alley. I've written a lot of new stuff lately, you can critique me on it."

"Sure."

* * *

_day two_

Ellie's front row, being pushed and shoved by _tons_ of girls, all more or less her age.

They're screaming Craig's name, over and over, their faces full of delight as they wait for him to take the stage. He's a celebrity, Ellie realizes. Hundreds, hell, _thousands_ of people know who he is. That's crazy. She remembers so long ago when he told her he wanted to be famous, wanted to play shows and hear people clap for him.

She wonders if this is all that he wanted it to be.

Ellie doesn't have much longer to think about this, however, because Craig rushes on stage, then. He smiles, waves at everyone and starts talking, saying how he's so happy to be here.

"There's a friend of mine here tonight. She's always been my number one fan, and I'm so happy to see her."

Craig opens with Rescue You and Ellie tries to remember that he doesn't want her, but how can she possibly tell herself that when he's looking at her like he is?

* * *

It's late when she and Craig make it back to his apartment.

The lights are all off but moonlight's coming in steadily from all the ocean front windows. Ellie walks over to them, looks out into the night. She hears Craig walk up behind her, she doesn't turn, though. She's afraid of what she might say.

"Was I good?"

Ellie swallows, "You're wonderful, Craig."

She means it in every way possible.

* * *

_day three_

Evette's running crazy about wedding plans.

She and Marco have struck up a sudden friendship, so he accompanies her on her errands. They ask Ellie to come along, but she declines. She watches bad reality tv for the better part of the day, until Craig gets home, tells her they're going out. He needs to make an appearance at some party or another.

She tries to fight him on it, but he insists.

So she ends up slipping on a dress, doing her make-up and fixing her hair. There's a picture of Evette from a modeling gig in the bathroom, and Ellie turns it down as she works on herself.

She doesn't measure up, this she knows. She doesn't need Evette's beauty staring her right in the face to prove it.

* * *

Craig's sipping on a cocktail.

Ellie's got her hands around a Diet Coke, because alcohol makes her even more anxious and it doesn't do her any good, ever. She remembers the last time she drank in Craig's prescence; it's a memory she wishes she'd just forget.

Craig licks his lips, and his hand brushes her arm as he lays a bill down on the bar. Ellie fights down a shudder, stares out into the crowds of people.

"How's your dad?" He asks suddenly, and she looks at him quickly.

"Fine. Well, not fine, but he's better. A lot better."

A soft smile, "And your mom?"

"Sober."

It's quiet for a moment. Well, as quiet as it can be with music thumping heavily in the air and people laughing and talking all around them.

"El, I..." Craig sighs.

She just looks at him, dares him to say what he wants to.

"Lets dance."

So they do, and Ellie lets go of everything, all the sadness and denial and disappointment. She dances (she _never _dances, but she'd do it for Craig) and he laughs and she's happy.

But then Evette calls and he takes it outside and leaves Ellie all alone.

* * *

_day four_

Craig heads to the studio and Evette wants to shop.

Ellie slips out before she can ask her to tag along. She spends the morning alone, sipping a frappucino and roaming around Hollywood. She occupies herself for a while, but it's hot, even in winter, so she pulls her hair into a ponytail, ducks into a vintage shop for some air conditioning.

She loves everything, wants to buy the whole store.

It's filled with old music, rock records full of songs she knows by heart. She smiles, runs her fingers over the albums. Craig would like this, she thinks. Craig would enjoy this place.

Would Evette?

(She ends up buying an old The Clash guitar pick. She doesn't know what she plans on doing with it.)

* * *

_day five_

Evette corners Ellie in the morning, cons her into a movie and dinner. She does it fiercly, like she's determined to spend some quality time with Craig's old best friend. Ellie doesn't want any part of it, but Marco scowls at her when she tries to decline so... she goes.

They watch some romantic comedy that Ellie doesn't pay attention to, and Evette chatters uselessly on the drive to the restaraunt. She knows she should atleast pretend to be interested, but it feels like too much work at this point, so she just stares silently out the window.

Dinner is quiet and Greek, and under the warm lights of the restaraunt, Ellie is stricken by Evette's beauty. She's so ordinary, and Evette is exotic and wonderful. And nice. She's _nice_ and Ellie feels bad for hating her so much. She can't stop it, though. Can't stop the easy way that she can't stand the girl.

"I'm sorry, Ellie."

She looks up into Evette's dark, apoligetic eyes.

"For what?"

Evette doesn't answer, she just goes back to eating and talking about the wedding.

Ellie feels sick and pathetic and sad.

So, so sad.

* * *

_day six_

Evette goes on a spa day with her brides maids, and Craig stays home and plays his guitar.

He sings Ellie all the new songs he didn't get to perform at the House of Blues, and she falls in love with every one of them. He sings Rescue You, and Ellie wants to say _why? Why the fuck are you _doing _this to me? _but she doesn't. Instead she just nods along and tells him they're all great.

"They can't _all _be great, Ellie. Give me something to work with here."

"The chord progression in that last one. I didn't like it."

He nods, "Thank you."

"Welcome." She says, but she turns away quickly because she's tired of being around him and when he sings it's hard for her to remember.

* * *

Evette stays at the spa and Marco's already in bed, so Ellie reads a little and tries to ignore the sweet sounds of Craig's guitar drifting in from the living room. She kind of wants to just curl up in the bed and cry, but she can't because she won't and she's already used up her tear quota for her whole life so...

She digs up the pick she bought and takes it to him.

"What's this?" He asks, a smile of sorts on his face and his eyes all serious.

"A wedding present."

She doesn't give him time to say anything else; she turns on her heel and goes back to her room.

* * *

_day seven_

Ellie wakes up to the banging of doors.

Seven am. Way, way too early, but she wasn't sleeping well anyway so she gets out of bed to see what's going on. People are running through the house, carrying things, in all states of dress. It's the day, Ellie realizes.

"Ellie!" Angie cries, grabbing her around the waist.

"Angie!" Ellie smiles, ruffle's the girl's hair.

"It's Angela, now." She says seriously, but there's still a grin on her face and Ellie laughs. Angie runs off, screaming _my brother's getting married!_ as she goes.

Ellie heads to the kitchen, finds Marco's sitting on the counter. He hands her a cup of coffee.

She decides that it's going to be a long, long day.

* * *

Everyone and their mother is in LA for the wedding.

Ellie fakes her way through most of the pleasantries, but there are quite a few people she's genuinely excited to see. Jimmy, Ashley, Paige. She hugs them all, tells them how much she's missed them.

Ashley does her hair since Ellie's always been awful at it, quizzes her for a while.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, with _this_. With the wedding."

"Of course, Ash."

She meets Ashley's eyes in the mirror; they don't look convinced, but she doesn't really care, anyways.

* * *

When Ellie's finally dressed, she can't help but admit that she looks pretty damn good.

It doesn't really make a difference though, does it? Craig's getting married, and Ellie looking gorgeous isn't going to change a thing.

* * *

She's seated between Marco and Ashley, and her palms are sweaty and everyone's waiting and _Craig's getting married_.

And she'll never admit it, ever, but she always thought he would figure it out eventually. He would love her back, in time. But here she is, at his wedding, and it's over. It's all over now.

Ellie leaves the ceremony before it starts, the sand seaping into her heels and flying up behind her feet as she runs.

* * *

She's sobbing as she packs up her things, and she can see the wedding through the windows. It's beautiful and he's going to have the perfect life now.

Perfect career, perfect home, perfect wife.

"Ellie? Are you okay?"

Craig.

"What are you doing here?"

She thinks she might've screamed at him, but she won't turn to see his face.

"I forgot the paper my vows are written on."

Ellie nods furiously for no reason, just trying to stop her tears. He touches her shoulder, "Ellie?"

"I can't, Craig. I _can't _go down there and watch you get married." She turns around, and she's not crying, not at all, and she feels strong, for once in her life. "I'm done. I hope you and Evette have a great life."

"Ellie. Ellie!"

She doesn't turn around.

* * *

Canada is cold and she welcomes it with open arms.

Work is boring and mindless and Ellie does it with happiness, because LA was too bright and harsh and stupid and she's done with it. She's over it.

She turned off her phone before she boarded her plane, and she hasn't turned it back on since.

Ellie's done with it.

* * *

Days pass, life goes on.

Like it always does.

Spin, spin, spin.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Craig's standing in front of her, shivering like he's never seen a Canadian winter. She doesn't invite him in, though.

He holds up the guitar pick (his _wedding present_), his eyes bright and heavy with something she doesn't care to dissect.

"Evette doesn't even know who The Clash is."

"And?" Ellie inches the door shut a little, leans her shoulder on it.

"You do."

Ellie sighs, "Get to the point, Craig. I've been working all day and I'm tired."

Craig steps closer to the door, closer to _her_, "You know who The Clash is, Ellie. You know about my favorite bands and chord progressions and the first song I ever wrote. You know about my mom and my dad and Joey and Angie and my disorder. You know _everything _about me, and you love me. You love me, even through all of that shit."

Ellie looks away.

"Ellie - I... I have made huge mistakes with you. _Huge_. But you're still here. I have tried and tried to just be your friend because I can't lose you, El. And if I fuck this up, like I do everything, I'll lose you. I _can't_."

She runs her hands over her face, tries to look unmoved.

"So that's why I tried to marry Evette. Evette, who doesn't know me, the real me, at all."

"Tried?" Ellie asks weakly?

"We fought before the ceremony, about you, actually, and that's why I was in the house. Trying to convince myself to do it."

"But you didn't?"

"No." He looks at the ground.

Ellie doesn't know what to say, what to do, how to even _be _here right now. Does Craig want her? Is he blaming her? He's not married? She's confused.

Craig kisses her, then.

And Ellie isn't so confused anymore.


End file.
